


A Night in with His Doms

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [67]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Come Sharing, Dom Derek Hale, Dom Peter Hale, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Knotting, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Toys, Sounding, Spitroasting, Sub Stiles Stilinski, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 14:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20391175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: Stiles' Doms do all sorts of naughty things to him when he gets home from work.





	A Night in with His Doms

**Author's Note:**

> As always with this series, don't judge me for the depravity I've written…

Adrenaline pumps through Stiles' veins as he stands beneath the shower in the master suite of the rebuilt Hale House, a space he's blissfully shared with Derek and Peter since he graduated from college just over a year ago. It's just him in the bathroom right now. Peter told him to get himself squeaky-clean while he and Derek got everything ready back out in the bedroom. What exactly they're getting ready is unknown to Stiles, but that's all part of the fun, and why his blood pumps so fast.

Their relationship is unusual for several reasons.

Firstly, there's the obvious: there are three of them in it instead of two.

Secondly: two of those people are blood related, but since most people still believe that Peter Hale is dead, it's not much of an issue.

Thirdly: the age differences. There are 6 years between Stiles and Derek—not a big deal—but between him and Peter, there are 18 years—big deal. None of them care, though.

Lastly: they have a 24/7 Dom/sub arrangement, with Peter and Derek both being dominant and Stiles being their eager submissive.

The Sheriff took issue with the first three reasons when Stiles first told him he was moving in with Derek and Peter. Couldn't he find someone closer to his own age, someone who wasn't committing incest? But he came around eventually, after he saw how happy Stiles was with Derek and Peter. The tipping point was another supernatural entity coming to town with the intent of wiping them all out, and the Sheriff saw proof of how protective Derek and Peter had become over his son.

With his Dad taken care of, there was just one thing left:

Stiles' submissive tendencies.

They were definitely something it took him some time to come to terms with when he first realised them. Derek and Peter had always been a bit domineering—Derek because he's an Alpha and Peter because he's Peter, cocky to the point of superciliousness—so it came as little surprise when they slowly slipped into more dominant roles in their relationship, especially in the bedroom. Stiles got off on it hard, and he found that it helped calm his mind—a miracle, really, because hardly anything he'd tried in the past was able to stop his mind from racing at all hours of the day and night.

So now here they are, living happily together, Stiles maintaining some level of independence when he's out at work, but obeying every one of his werewolves' whims when he's home.

It's heaven.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Stiles finishes up by making sure his ass is sparkling-clean and switches off the shower. He's been hard enough to pound nails ever since he got home and Peter directed him straight to the shower, and pre-come drips from his slit as he wonders what torturous delights await him after he steps back out into the bedroom.

Stiles' impatience makes him rush through drying himself off, only rubbing his towel over his head for a few measly seconds before he decides he's done, his hair still wet enough that it drips water onto his shoulders as he approaches the door.

Opening it, he finds a shirtless Derek waiting for him right on the other side, blocking his view of their bed—a massive California king.

"Someone's excited," Derek comments, arching an eyebrow.

"You bet, Sir."

"Well, hang on a minute."

Stiles walks backward when Derek puts a hand on the centre of his chest and pushes lightly. The Alpha grabs the towel Stiles just discarded and spends another thirty seconds doing a much better job of drying Stiles' hair with it, taking such good care of him that Stiles' whole body tingles with pleasure. It doesn't hurt that, while Derek does this, Stiles has to have his head bowed, meaning his gaze instantly zeroes in on the obvious bulge concealed by Derek's jeans. He licks his lips, wanting to get his mouth on that gorgeous, thick length and take it into his throat, but he daren't drop to his knees unless he's told to do so.

Unless he's _trying_ to get a spanking, of course, which he's wont to do every now and then.

"There, that's better," Derek says, throwing the towel in the hamper without looking. He cards his fingers through Stiles' hair to smooth it down and then reaches behind himself to pull something out of the back pocket of his jeans.

Stiles' anticipation gets even stronger when he sees that it's a familiar strip of elegant black leather.

His collar.

"Head up," Derek instructs, his voice commanding and soft at the same time.

Stiles obeys willingly, and when Derek has secured the collar around his neck, he reaches up to finger it with pride. It's a symbol of his Doms' claim to him, so he loves wearing it. The only times his Doms ever take it off are when he's leaving for work or when he showers, lest the water ruin the leather.

"Good?" Derek enquires, cocking his head to the side as he palms himself through his jeans.

"Yes, Sir," Stiles replies with a nod and a grin.

"Good boy. C'mon, then." Derek turns and walks out of the bathroom, trusting that Stiles will follow him closely. "Let's see what Peter and I have prepared for you."

In the bedroom now, Stiles doesn't immediately see anything to inform him of what his Doms are going to do to him. On the foot of the bed, there's another towel. It's folded in half and bumpy, which lets Stiles know that his Doms are planning to use at least a couple toys on him tonight. This ramps his excitement up to new levels because he loves playing with the myriad sex toys they own, the majority of which Peter brought into their home.

Speaking of Peter, the Beta stands next to the bed in the same state of undress as Stiles. Stiles gets lost for a minute just staring at all that tanned skin and muscle.

No matter how many times he sees Peter and/or Derek naked, it never gets old.

"See something you like?" the eldest Hale asks with his signature devilish grin. He runs a big hand down his chest, teasing Stiles.

"Yes, Sir," Stiles answers, swallowing tightly.

"Well get over here, then. I'll keep you busy while my nephew gets more appropriately dressed for this occasion."

Stiles crosses the room quickly and finds himself held tightly in Peter's arms, Peter's mouth on his, their hard cocks rubbing together. His six-inch length is thoroughly dwarfed by Peter's huge erection, something that might make someone else feel emasculated. But to Stiles, it's just a turn-on.

The kiss is rough, making him melt instantly. He doesn't even attempt to fight the werewolf for control of the kiss because that's not his place. All he has to do is go with it, obey whatever his Doms ask of him to the letter and thank them for it.

It's perfect.

"Always taste so good, boy," Peter whispers against Stiles' mouth. He opens his eyes and stares right into Stiles', his gaze intense.

Stiles blushes. "Thank you, Sir."

"Alright," comes Derek's voice from behind him. "Let's get started."

Stiles can't resist glancing behind himself and scanning his eyes up and down Derek's naked body too. He enjoys the Alpha's chest hair and his nine-inch cock, which sticks out from a thatch of black curls at the base.

Derek walks around Stiles and Peter, gets on the bed and positions himself with his back against the pillows. He slouches down slightly before spreading his legs and holding out a hand. "Come here," he commands, his tone brooking no argument.

As if Stiles would even _dream_ of arguing.

Under Derek's guidance, Stiles puts himself between Derek's legs, his back to the werewolf's front. He's slouched down even further, his head coming to rest on the right side of Derek's drool-worthy chest and Derek's cock pressing insistently against the small of his back, creating a wet patch. It's a complete tease, but he doesn't have long to worry about it because Peter chooses then to join them.

The beta kneels in front of Stiles and pulls the towel closer, and at the same time, Derek grabs Stiles' arms and brings them up above his head, instructing him to join his hands behind Derek's neck. When the human is in place, Derek wraps his own arms around Stiles' torso tightly enough that there's no hope of Stiles getting free unless he uses his safeword. Which…no. He likes where this is going.

"D'you wanna know what I'm gonna do to you, Stiles?" Peter asks mischievously, sitting back on his heels.

Stiles nods. "Yes, Sir."

Reaching for the towel, Peter unfolds it and reveals to Stiles all the implements and toys he has prepared. Stiles' mouth drops open as he looks at it all:

A massive metal butt plug.

A black silicone cock ring.

Nipple clamps.

Lube, both anal and surgical.

Sterilising wipes.

And, finally, sounding rods.

Fuck, Stiles isn't ready for this, and at the same, he wants it all right the fuck now.

"I take it from your expression that you're alright with all of these things?" Peter checks in, giving Stiles his one and only out of the scene.

"My colour's green," Stiles confirms, already a bit breathless. His cock throbs with need.

"Good boy," Derek murmurs next to his ear, right before nibbling on the lobe.

To begin with, Peter picks up the cock ring and wraps a hand around Stiles' cock, causing his hips to buck up of their own accord. Derek's arms tighten around him in a silent warning, so Stiles stills himself and groans quietly as Peter rolls the cock ring down his shaft until it fits snugly around the base, preventing him from coming before his Doms give him permission.

After checking to make sure it's not too tight or uncomfortable, Peter moves on to the next step: the plug.

"We're gonna do something a bit different this evening, boy," the Beta says so conversationally it's like he's just talking about the weather. "You've never been sounded while having a plug inside you before, so we're gonna push your limits a bit."

Stiles shudders, already imagining it. He knows that the steel plug Peter is now holding is hard and unremitting and cold. It pushes up against his prostate without him even having to try, and the thought of having both the plug and the sound hitting him _there_ at the same time…it has Stiles shaking.

"Colour?" Peter asks.

"Still green, Sir. So fucking green."

What follows is a few minutes of torture. Peter takes his time, sliding his thick fingers in and out of his hole, scissoring them apart to stretch him for the plug. He spends long seconds with them in to the last knuckle, crooking them _just so_ to brush across Stiles' prostate and make his thighs quiver with pleasure—and this is all just a preview of what's to come. Stiles doesn't know if he can handle it, but Peter _did_ say his limits were going to be pushed today, and he has the utmost trust in both of his Doms, trusts that they won't ever push him _too_ far. They'll take good care of him, so all Stiles has to do is let them.

"Here we go, boy," Peter warns after taking away his fingers. He slicks up the plug and puts the tapered end at Stiles' loosened hole. "Deep breaths."

Stiles tries to obey, but it's difficult, especially when the plug just keeps coming, stretching him about as wide as Derek's knot does.

Then it's in, the base against his rim, the cool steel making him shiver.

"Fuck…"

"Maybe later, if you're good," Derek tells him, rubbing a hand up and down Stiles' flat but soft stomach to soothe him.

"I will be," Stiles promises, tilting his head back to meet his Dom's gaze. Derek's eyes are burning red.

"D'you wanna do the honours for this next part, dear nephew?" Peter asks, breaking their eye contact.

Stiles looks back at Peter and finds him holding the nipple clamps. His toes curl because this is one of his favourites. He _loves_ nipple play.

"Sure," Derek assents.

He moves his arms and pinches both of Stiles' nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. This has Stiles clenching down on the plug, but there's no give at all and all it does is frustrate him.

"That looks good," Derek says, speaking to himself as he inspects the state of Stiles' nipples, erect and already slightly swollen.

Stiles just moans.

A few seconds later, both clamps are on, squeezing his nipples so tightly that they quickly begin to go numb. It's an odd sensation, and he knows the best bit is yet to come. It's going to hurt like a bitch when his Doms eventually take the clamps off, when the blood rushes back into the abused nubs and feeling returns, but that pain is going to be mixed with such exquisite pleasure that Stiles won't care.

Peter flicks one of the clamps suddenly, saying, "For good measure," and Stiles arches his back and cries out, more pre-come leaking from the slit of his cock.

"Peter!" Derek scolds with a glare.

The Beta's expression is so innocent that it's almost convincing. But, since it's Peter, it never actually could be. "What, nephew?"

Derek sighs as if it pains him, while Stiles recovers from the spark of pain in his nipple. "Just get on with it," Derek says. "We don't want our boy to get too worked up before the main event."

"I suppose you're right." Peter shrugs. "Guess it's time to use _this_."

Stiles cracks open his eyes to see the Beta now holding one of their sounding rods, a size somewhere in the middle. The first time he did this to Stiles, he used the smallest one, and over the years they've worked their way up. Stiles wonders idly if Peter plans on getting him to the biggest rod eventually. He can feel the phantom thickness of it in his urethra already, stretching it to the max.

After wiping over the head of Stiles' dick with a sterile wipe and cleaning the sound, Peter uses some of the surgical lube to slick up both Stiles' slit and the sound.

"Ready?" Derek murmurs to him, back to rubbing his stomach.

Stiles is so excited that he can only manage an affirmative sound, no words. He can't fucking wait.

"Go ahead, Uncle," Derek says. The wet patch of pre-come at the small of Stiles' back gets that much wetter.

Peter uses one hand to lightly squeeze the head of Stiles' cock, widening the slit, and puts the end of the sound against it. A second later, he pushes it in a centimetre or two and lets gravity do the rest of the work, Stiles' urethra stretching again as inch by slow inch fills his cock up. There's no way for Stiles to accurately describe how it feels. It's odd at first, always is, and it was so odd the first time they did this that he considered calling the whole thing off. His Doms would've understood, but he stuck with it, and eventually the oddness morphed into something much, much better.

When the sound stops moving, Stiles feels full, but it's not enough to reach his prostate. He knows it can go a bit further before it becomes unsafe.

"Just a second, boy," Peter says, noticing that there's further to go too.

With a small wiggle of the sound that has Stiles choking on his own spit, the sound slides down the rest of the way and fireworks go off behind his eyelids, whiting out his vision.

"There!" he cries, tensing up slightly. He digs his short nails into the back of Derek's neck.

What follows is the best pleasure Stiles has ever known. It's like the feeling of a climax without actually having one, out of order and strange.

Peter slides the sound up and lets it drop back down Stiles' slit over and over again, and each time causes Stiles' body to clench up, the plug in his hole doubling the prostate stimulation. The sounds pouring from Stiles' lips get louder each time. His mouth hangs open and he has his eyes shut tight as he rides out the frissons of pleasure coursing through his veins non-stop. He writhes in Derek's hold. He never stands a chance of getting free, but his struggles _do_ necessitate that the Alpha use more than the bare minimum of his strength for once, just to make sure Stiles doesn't end up moving too much, potentially injuring himself.

"Think you can handle the next size up this time?" Peter asks Stiles after a while, leaving the sound in all the way.

It takes Stiles a few moments to gather the wherewithal to respond, and even then, Peter has to repeat the question because he missed some of it the first time.

"Oh." Stiles blinks, his eyelashes wet. "If you think I can handle it, Sir, I'd like that," he says. He tilts his head to the side when Derek kisses his neck, grounding him.

Peter grins. "There's a good boy. That's just what I wanted to hear."

Stiles whines when the Beta takes the first sound out all the way and lays it with its brothers on the towel next to him. He feels empty, but fortunately, Peter doesn't leave him that way.

"God, I can't wait to see what you look like when you can finally take the biggest one," Peter says as he sterilises the next sound and slicks it up with more surgical lube. "Your piss slit's gonna _gape_."

Peter repeats the process all over again with the bigger sound. He has to start just as slow as he did with the first one, giving Stiles a chance to get used to it, but once he is, all bets are off and both werewolves get in on the action, working in tandem to torture him.

Peter manipulates the sound with one hand while using his other to fondle Stiles' balls, tugging lightly on them and rolling them in his palm. He even extends his index finger and nudges the base of the steel plug in time with his manipulation of the sound, ensuring that there's no possible way for Stiles to escape from the pleasure. While Peter does that, Derek teases Stiles' nipples, taking a clamp in one hand and pulling. He alternates between them and keeps his other arm around Stiles' torso, holding him as still as possible.

Sweat beads on Stiles' brow and prickles in his armpits, and he gets close to using of one his safewords to either slow things down or bring them to halt altogether. But he doesn't. He holds on because it never actually reaches the point of too much.

Eventually, Peter takes mercy on him. "You ready to come, boy?" he asks, his voice low and growling.

Stiles nods ardently, and his eyes roll back in their sockets when Peter takes out the thicker sound and removes the cock ring.

"Then come."

Peter strokes Stiles' empty cock and presses more forcefully on the plug still in his ass, helping him along. What actually sets him off is Derek choosing then to remove both of the clamps at once, and as feeling rockets back to his swollen nubs, a combination of searing pain and pleasure, Stiles explodes.

Peter angles his cock toward him so he paints his own body with his release. There's so much of it because he's been horny for so long and his Doms took their time with him. By the time his orgasm is over and he begins to come down from his high—the highest high he's felt in a long, long time, possibly since the first orgasm he ever had when he discovered what his dick was for—he's a complete mess of seed, his skin splattered with milky-white fluid. The surgical lube that got in his urethra from the sound is mixed with it too.

"Naughty boy, making such a mess," Peter says, giving him a fang-filled grin.

"Your— S'your fault, Sir," Stiles pants.

"In that case, I case I'd better clean it up, hmm?"

Stiles watches closely as Peter leans over him and licks a wide path right up the centre of his body. Once he's got a mouthful, he rises up to feed some of it to Derek, who accepts it into his mouth with a moan.

It's obscene, watching Peter and Derek make out with each other, sharing Stiles' come. Stiles always gets a thrill from the taboo of it, and this time is no different. His dick twitches with interest where it's now soft against his thigh, but it's too early for him to get hard again.

"Wanna taste?" Peter asks after he sits back, noticing the lust that must be in Stiles' eyes.

Stiles nods slowly. "Uh-huh."

With another lick, Peter gathers more of his come and feeds it to him this time. Stiles wonders if it's just his imagination, or if he can really taste Derek's mouth in Peter's, beneath the bitterness of his seed.

When Peter has backed off again, he finishes cleaning off Stiles' front and then Derek helps Stiles to lower his arms back down to his sides. His shoulders ache from keeping them raised for so long, and Derek seems to know without him having to say anything. The Alpha pushes him forward to sit up under his own steam and expertly soothes this ache with his hands, massaging Stiles' shoulders until the discomfort has faded. Then, Derek slides out from behind him, and Stiles lies down in the space the Alpha just vacated, his head hitting the pillows.

Stiles looks with hooded eyes as Derek moves to kneel beside Peter. Both of them are sweaty too, and their cocks are still rock-hard and red with need.

Recalling what Derek told him earlier, Stiles parts his legs and bends his knees slightly, offering himself up.

"Still want us, huh?" Derek observes with a smirk.

Stiles smiles back. "Always, Sir."

Derek and Peter share a glance, and then Derek returns his gaze to Stiles'. "One of us'll use your ass and the other'll use your mouth."

"Sounds good, Sir," Stiles assents, licking his lips. He lowers his attention to his Doms' cocks again, desiring a taste and their weight on his tongue.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors?" Peter suggests, holding up a fist. "Winner gets his ass."

With a roll of his eyes, Derek agrees and raises his fist too. Stiles doesn't care about the outcome because both werewolves are masters at fucking and their cocks both taste awesome. Either way is fine.

"Damn," Peter pouts when he goes with paper and Derek beats him with scissors.

"Suck it up, Uncle," Derek tells him.

"Sir," Stiles calls, brushing his foot against Peter's thigh to let him know it's him he's talking to. "Don't worry. I'll make it good for you," he promises.

Peter's demeanour changes into something that's almost sweet, yet his blue eyes still retain the heat of his desire. He shuffles up to kneel next to Stiles' head, grabs the headboard with one hand and wraps the other around the base of his huge cock. "I know. I wasn't doubting that," he says.

Stiles thinks he gets it and feels a bit smug. "My ass is just _that_ good, huh?"

"That it is, boy." Peter's eyes glow electric-blue. "Now open wide for me."

Stiles obeys, parting his lips and allowing Peter to insert the first couple inches of his cock. He doesn't thrust or anything, just stays there with his cock resting atop Stiles' tongue, so Stiles seals his lips around the thick shaft and runs his tongue in circles around Peter's cock head, tasting some of the salty pre-come he's producing. He even prods the tip of his tongue beneath the Beta's foreskin, and his eyelids flutter as the taste of the sweat and musk that's accumulated there throughout the course of the day hits him. It's just the right side of unclean to be indescribably sexy.

While Stiles gets a good suckle going, one hand on Peter's knee and the other fisted in the bedsheets, Derek reaches for the plug in his ass.

"I'm gonna take this out and replace it with my cock," he says, twisting the toy.

Unable to speak, Stiles settles for humming his approval and almost nicks Peter with his teeth when Derek pulls out the plug, his hole stretching before being left wide and empty, desperate for something to fill it up again.

Derek gives him that something, insinuating himself between Stiles' legs and slipping his cock inside. He goes right to the hilt in one go. "God, I never get tired of how you feel around me," he rasps, undulating his hips to set up a slow pace.

_You too,_ Stiles thinks, feeling owned and wanted and _loved_ with both of his Doms inside him, filling him at both ends.

"Go a bit faster, nephew," Peter urges, feeding Stiles more of his cock, the head nudging the back of Stiles' throat.

"Would you like that, boy?" Derek enquires, speeding up his thrusts before he gives Stiles a chance to respond. "Want me to fuck you so hard, the headboard hits the wall?"

Stiles moans around Peter's cock.

Peter chuckles. "I think that's a yes."

"Then let's make some noise."

With his next thrust, Derek goes _hard_, fucking his sub like an animal. His heavy balls smack against the bottom of Stiles' ass cheeks and the headboard begins banging into the wall loud enough that, were anyone else in the house, they'd have no trouble discerning what's going on in the master suite. There's a naughtiness to this thought that Stiles loves.

He doesn't consider himself an exhibitionist—and his Doms are both too possessive of him to let anyone else see him like this anyway—but he can imagine in the safety of his mind. He easily pictures other members of the pack lounging downstairs, maybe having to turn up the volume on the TV to drown out the racket Derek is making.

Too soon, Stiles notices that it's becoming more difficult for him to take Derek all the way to the root, a clear sign that Derek's knot is forming. Sure enough, Derek growls his intentions a second later:

"Gonna knot you," he says, inhuman teeth gritted. "Pump you full of my seed until your belly swells with it."

Peter groans and tips his head back, his ridiculously thick neck on display. "I love it when you talk dirty, nephew."

Thirty seconds later, Derek thrusts all the way inside a final time and stays there as his knot swells the rest of the way, safe behind Stiles' rim. He grinds his hips against the human's ass in an effort to get even deeper, and then he unloads, falling forward to bite Stiles' shoulder as his orgasm overwhelms him. He somehow retains enough control not to pierce Stiles' skin. He's heavy—200 pounds of pure, sweaty muscle—but Stiles doesn't mind the weight. He wraps his legs around Derek's hips and moves the hand he has in the sheets to Derek's back, holding him close.

"Nearly there too," Peter says, thrusting into Stiles' mouth. "Get ready, boy."

Stiles whimpers as, almost as soon as the last word has left Peter's lips, he comes, still thrusting.

Some of Peter's semen goes straight down Stiles' throat, but the rest collects on his tongue, and when Peter withdraws all the way and falls back on his ass, breathing heavily like he's just run a marathon, Stiles swirls the fluid around his mouth and savours the salty taste of it. He never gets enough.

Once both werewolves have recovered from their orgasms, they reposition themselves. Derek sits up with Stiles in his lap, unable to separate because his knot is still swollen and will be for another fifteen minutes or so, and Peter presses himself against Stiles' back, making Stiles the filling in a Hale sandwich. It's not a bad place to be.

"Okay?" Derek asks quietly, resting their foreheads together as Peter kisses Stiles' neck.

"Yeah…that was awesome," Stiles replies. He's sleepy now that the adrenaline is leaving his system.

"Good boy," Peter says, laving the bite mark Derek left with his tongue.

"Love you guys," Stiles mumbles, smacking his lips.

Derek smiles. "You too."

Peter just hums, but the sentiment is there.

Some time passes, and right before Stiles actually falls asleep, Peter grabs him under his armpits and lifts him off of Derek's lap. He winces as Derek's softening cock slips from his hole. Peter gets off the bed while using his werewolf strength to maintain his hold on Stiles, while Derek clears off the bed and pulls back the sheets. With that done, Peter lays Stiles down and lies down next to him, pulling him into his arms. Stiles ends up with his face smushed into the side of Peter's neck, but he can't complain. It smells nice there.

He startles when he feels something warm and damp between his cheeks.

"S'just me," Derek says, putting his free hand on Stiles' hip. "Just cleaning you up a bit before you drift off."

Stiles hums and relaxes again, throwing his arm over Peter's waist. " 'K."

He hears the washcloth Derek got hit the tile of the bathroom floor with a splat, and then Derek takes his place behind him, spooning him. Their legs end up a tangled mess.

"Sleep," Peter commands him, kissing his temple.

Unable to deny a direct order from one of his Doms, Stiles finally drifts off, worn out, content and safe with his Doms holding him tightly.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, how I love BDSM. It's the best.
> 
> About two months ago, this PWP started life as a small thought in the back of my mind, and I just couldn't hold off writing it any longer. I've had several naughty ideas like that lately, and my muse always refuses to quiet down until they're completed. Oh well. I can't complain. XD Tell me, what did you guys think? What was your favourite part of this PWP? I think mine was the sounding, and while Sterek is still my OTP, I love including Peter in there sometimes too. That sexy motherfucker…
> 
> Stay tuned for my next PWP, in which Stiles experiences an unforeseen consequence of finally accepting the bite: his Beta form isn't like the other guys', revealing that he's trans. Only Scott knew before, but Derek reassures him that it changes nothing. Top!Derek/bottom!Stiles. (Is it really bottom!Stiles if he hasn't had surgery down there?)
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future fics go live, which will all be Sterek. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


End file.
